


Welcome to Detroit Dental and Orthodontics

by stanzas



Series: Sign Here And Leave Your Name At The Desk [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Adopted Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Medical, Dentist Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Model Victor Nikiforov, Pining Victor Nikiforov, background Otabek Altin/Mila Babicheva
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 18:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10882398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanzas/pseuds/stanzas
Summary: Victor stops the car, turns off the engine, and Yuri rolls out the car with the attitude of every slightly inconvenienced teenager. Yuri flips his shades up, stares in disbelief at the sign in front of the well-manicured lawn squished between two old barber shops: DETROIT DENTAL AND ORTHODONTICS.“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says.Or: Victor has a crush on his favorite shy, attractive dentist, and Yuri suffers.





	Welcome to Detroit Dental and Orthodontics

**Author's Note:**

> dlfjgdlfgjldkgjsdlkj i haven't written anything in like 5 years and i wrote this in 3 days because i was suddenly inspired and wanted to write about dentists and hockey??? i dont know, this (almost 12k jesus chrjddf) came out of nowhere ldksfjgldfk  
> but here i get to show off my #cool dental knowledge & some real life experiences about horrific dentist visits.  
> i also get to show off my limited knowledge about hockey and bs my way through how i think hockey works (@dana and sharks fans, the sharks are the worst sorry i dont make the rules, bruins #ftw)
> 
> unbeta'd because im a loser with no friends  
> & i wrote most of this on pain meds so who knows if its any good sdkjfdkjdlk;s;ks  
> minor warning if you need it: mentions of past eating disorder  
>  ~~edit: 6/11/17 y'ALL ASKED FOR IT SO PART 2 IS COMING IN A COUPLE WEEKS. get ready for more dentist shenanigans. (jk there's like 0 dentists i'm failing to deliver,,,,,,,i am,,,, a failu re,,,)~~  
>  **edit** : 7/23/17 PALS IT IS DONE PART TWO EXISTS AND IT'S PART OF A SERIES **([read it here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11592594))**

* * *

 

 

What many people don’t know about hockey games is that ninety-nine percent of the time, the best way to resolve any issue is to start a fight.

“That’s not how hockey works, Yura,” Yakov scolds him, as Yuri slumps on the bench from where he was kicked into the penalty box by the ref. This is his third penalty in a single game.

Yakov doesn’t know shit. He’s just a coach, who hasn’t played hockey in over a century. Hockey’s a fighting game. Yuri’s head is spinning, and he can’t hear over the noise of the crowd, but he’s pretty sure he’s banned from going back on the ice. That’s okay, he had to be dragged to a seat because he could barely stand.

“I think you have a concussion,” Yakov says. Yuri thinks that’s likely, given JJ, the shithead, shoved his face into the wall. JJ started it when he made some smarmy remark at the faceoff. Yuri kicked his stick, JJ called him a baby, and then Yuri punched him.

“What did I tell you?” Yakov thunders. Yuri’s head hurts. He tells Yakov to tune it down a notch or ten. Yuri has a vivid flashback to his first fight on the ice, when Yakov dragged him off the rink by the ear, shouting, _You never throw the first punch_. Yuri always throws the first punch, it’s the only way he wins.

“I’ll first punch you,” Yuri slurs. He probably has a concussion. His jaw hurts, and his mouth tastes like iron. If JJ broke his jaw, he’s going to shove his foot up that jerk’s ass. His memory of the fight is a little blurry. He’s pretty sure he punched the other team’s goalie at some point, so it might not be JJ’s fault.

He’s still going to kick JJ’s ass.

Yakov grabs him by the jaw and looks him in the eye. “This is _juniors_ hockey,” he hisses. “No more fights. I’m calling Vitya and he’s taking you to the ER.”

“Cool,” Yuri says, and passes the fuck out.

 

* * *

 

Yuri wakes up in the hospital. Victor is slumped in his chair, asleep. His hair is frizzy and unkempt, like he didn’t have time to dry it, which is very unlike him.

Yuri stares up at the ceiling, which is spinning like he’s on the merry-go-round Victor took him to when they visited New York. He figures he’s still very concussed, and his head feels like somebody is power drilling through his skull.

He picks up his hand and touches his face. His mouth is swollen, which isn’t great, and he feels around his mouth. The blood is gone, and he can’t feel any gaps, so no missing teeth, which is a good sign.

Victor wakes up around the third episode of _Friends_ , because Yuri can’t figure out how to change the station. He snorts, rubs a hand over his eyes, and sees Yuri is awake. He’s got bags under his eyes, and Yuri feels only the tiniest bit guilty.

“Hey, squirt,” Victor says, gently. Yuri appreciates the low volume, because his head is about to explode. “Welcome back to land of the living.”

“I’m fine,” Yuri glares at the wall behind Victor. “Did we win?”

Victor smiles. He looks far too cheerful, given the god-awful time it is. “Yes, two point victory. Congrats, champ.”

“Good.” Yuri rolls over to look out the window.

“Yakov also said you’re banned from practice for the next two weeks.” Victor continues, cheerily. “I told him I want to take you on college tours, while you’re recovering.”

Yuri no longer feels guilty. “You fucking asshole,” Yuri snarls. Victor’s smile widens, and it’s the shark smile Yuri hates; like when Victor found him playing Halo at four in the morning and picked up his X-box, gave him that smile, and Yuri didn’t see his X-box again until the end of July.

“Doctor said no ice time for at least three weeks,” Victor’s sharp smile brings him back to attention. Yuri wants to punch someone again, preferably JJ. “You have a pretty severe concussion, and I’ve been recommended a trip to the dentist for your jaw injury.”

Yuri turns over, and shoves his scream of frustration into the pillow.

 

* * *

 

Victor forgets, sometimes, that the only thing Yuri hates more than losing is being coddled.

Especially by Victor.

During such events, he swears, and curses, and threatens violence on anyone who attempts to come within three feet of him. Except Makkachin, who gets a free pass because he doesn’t talk back. Makkachin bounces on him when he comes in through the door, back from the hospital, and Yuri is too exhausted to push him away. Victor gives him an advil when he gets tired of Yuri whining, and goes downstairs to watch Eurovision.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

Time away from the ice leaves Yuri restless, and Victor suggests he hang out with some friends at school to take his mind off it. Yuri vehemently refuses, and claims he has no friends.

“What about Mila?” Victor offers. Yuri hisses like the very idea repulses him.

When Yuri tells him he hopes Victor slips in the shower, Victor tries a different tactic.

“I’m very proud of you, Yura, and I know you’re disappointed. But you’re an amazing player, Yakov knows these things, I’m sure you’ll be the first scouted next season. I believe in you.”

This fails, miserably.

“Don’t pull this shit with me! You’re not my father!” Yuri screams.

Victor smiles placidly at him, and makes his escape. Outside Yuri’s door, he presses his hands into his face. He knows Yuri is upset because he won’t get to play at the Junior NHL Playoffs, which he was looking forward to all season. He knows Yuri is in a lot of pain, from his injury, and the embarrassment of almost costing his team the entire game.

He knows Yuri can be difficult sometimes, and he’s had a difficult life. But it doesn’t excuse him for being a brat.

“ _Yura_ ,” Victor sing-songs as he re-opens the door. He keeps a smile on his face, and the anger from Yuri’s face slips away. Victor forgets many things, but he does not forget that Yuri is vulnerable, and he will never forget the hardened look of the boy he saw at the orphanage in Russia. They are the same boy, and only rarely does Victor see them in the same place. “Let’s go shopping.”

Yuri looks at him like he’s lost his mind, but Victor bribes him and says he’ll let Yuri stop in Hot Topic, to which he reluctantly agrees. Victor despises that store because it gives him flashbacks to his early teen years, which he’s sworn anyone who has photographic evidence to take it to the grave. If anyone got a hold of those photos, his dyed black hair, thick dark eyeliner, and ripped leather, Victor is sure that stain would destroy his career.

But it doesn’t really matter, not anymore. He’s still never letting those photos see the light of day.

What Yuri doesn’t know, as he shuffles to the car, taking small, patient steps as he tries not to trip and fall flat on his face, is that they have to stop somewhere _before_ the mall.

Yuri leans his head on the window and falls asleep about halfway through the trip. Victor turns down the radio. It’s probably for the best he doesn’t wake up until they arrive.

Victor squeezes between two mini-vans, and shakes Yuri awake, who grumbles and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Victor stops the car, turns off the engine, and Yuri rolls out the car with the attitude of every slightly inconvenienced teenager. Yuri flips his shades up, stares in disbelief at the sign in front of the well-manicured lawn squished between two old barber shops: DETROIT DENTAL AND ORTHODONTICS.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says.

“We can go to the mall after,” Victor assures him brightly. The look of stunned betrayal on Yuri’s face is nothing short of hilarious. “We have an appointment at three, so we should get moving.”

“I’m going to shave your head while you sleep,” Yuri spits. Victor hides his laugh in his hand, and locks the car, jingling the keys as he walks up the steps. Yuri follows sullenly behind him.

The boy at the desk can’t be much older than Yuri, and he looks like an intern, or a college student. He doesn’t look familiar, so he must be a new hire. Victor catches a peek of the screen and sees a game of Solitaire quickly hidden by a new window. “Hello!” he cheerfully greets Victor at the door, as Victor takes off his glasses and smiles. Yuri scowls behind him, and throws himself into the couch in the waiting area. Victor musters all his confidence and charm, and swaggers over to the desk.

“Appointment at three with Dr. Deluka,” Victor tells him. “Last name is Nikiforov.”

“Oh, yes,” the kid says. He frowns at the screen. “Sorry, Katie forgot to call and tell you, but Dr. Deluka isn’t available. You’ll be meeting with Dr. Katsuki instead.”

Victor’s known Dr. Deluka for most of the years he’s spent living in Detroit. He’s been Yuri’s dentist since Yuri’s first hockey-related injury (from a fight, what else) and he knows Yuri better than most people. “Is Dr. Deluka alright?” Victor’s concern bleeds into his voice, as he leans in over the desk. The boy’s eyes widen slightly, like he isn’t used to having attractive men right in his face. He swallows, and while Victor appreciates the reaction, he knows this boy is neither his type or the right age for him.

“It’s his granddaughter’s birthday today, I think,” the boy shrinks back in his chair. “Dr. Katsuki volunteered to take his shift, unless you have an issue?” The last word squeaks out much higher than the rest of the sentence. Victor smiles, leans back.

“No,” he says. “No issue.”

The kid types in his information, and slides him a clipboard. “If you could fill that out and hand it back to me, that’d be great.”

“No problem,” Victor chirps, and winks. The boy’s face flushes and he snaps his focus back to his computer.

“You’re too old for him,” Yuri says, when Victor takes a seat next to him.

“Yes,” Victor agrees. “But I’m not interested in him, don’t worry, little Yura.” Yuri rolls his eyes, takes out his phone, and scrolls through Twitter while Victor fills out paperwork. Allergies, medical history, reason for their visit, insurance. Very boring stuff. Victor absentmindedly chews on the cap of the pen before he realizes what he’s doing, and spits it out. God knows where it’s been. He settles for rubbing his chin with his free hand, and humming tunelessly as he reads.

There’s a commotion at the desk, and the heavy sound of a box hitting the floor. Victor’s head pops up at the noise.

“Minami,” a voice whines, somewhere behind the wall. “Stop moving my posters.”

“They’re distracting!” The boy from the desk cries. “And the Predators suck, pick a better team.”

Yuri snorts, not looking up from his phone. He’s playing that virtual cat game, although whenever Victor sees it Yuri violently denies it. “He’s got that right.” Victor huffs a laugh, finishes signing his name down at the bottom. Yuri is not old enough to sign for himself, but in a year he’ll be old enough to drag himself to the dentist and sign his own paperwork. Victor won’t miss playing chauffeur.

“All set?” The boy at the desk asks, when Victor hands the clipboard back.

“Yep,” Victor says, popping the last consonant. “Thanks.” The boy blushes again. Victor sighs inwardly.

“I’ll put this away,” he sorts through the papers, unclipping them and shoving them in a manilla folder. He scribbles “YURI PLI” on the front in red marker. “He’ll call you when he’s ready.”

Victor nods, and heads back to his seat. He sits for about three seconds before taking out his phone, itching to do something with his hands.

He taps his feet, rubs his hand against his thigh. Checks the time on his phone, and lays it face down on his lap.

“Oh my God, stop that.” Yuri snaps, without looking up from his phone.

Victor sighs, tries to stop his leg from bouncing. Checks his watch. Takes out his wallet, keys, and a rubber ball, and bounces it in time with his jiggling leg.

“Did you forget your meds again?” Yuri’s voice jolts him back to reality, in a what can only be a scathing tone. Victor hums, tries to think back to earlier in the day, and shrugs.

“Probably. I didn’t sleep well. Must’ve slipped my mind.”

A guilty look slides over Yuri’s face. “That’s because you’re a forgetful old geezer,” Yuri says, but less scathing. Victor coos at him, and the guilty look slides right off and is replaced by pure loathing.

“Yuri?” A voice rings out. Victor stands, and Yuri, an afterthought. A man with dark hair and hamster print scrubs walks in, and smiles at them. He doesn’t look like a dentist, but it must be Dr. Katsuki. He has a very nice smile. “Right this way, I’m the technician. You can call me Phichit, I swear I don’t bite.” His bubbly personality is infectious. Victor doesn’t mind it, but Yuri rolls his eyes.

“Hello, Phichit,” Victor greets him. “I’m Victor, this is my son, Yuri.” Yuri glares.

“Hello, Yuri,” Phichit says, unfazed by Yuri’s death glare. Phichit leads him to the examination room, while Phichit looks over Yuri’s files. Yuri settles into his chair with a sour expression.

“Dr. Katsuki has you set for an x-ray to take a look at what we’re dealing with,” Phichit tells Yuri. He turns to Victor. “I’ll have you wait outside for the x-ray.”

“Sure thing,” Victor says, and throws finger guns at Yuri as he leaves. Yuri sighs, and from outside the door he hears Yuri complain to Phichit about his embarrassing father. Victor smirks.

Phichit steps outside after a minute and uses the machine plugged into the wall. “There’s some magazines over there if you’re interested,” Phichit says. Victor gives him a thin-lipped smile and wanders over to the stand. He thumbs through the rack and comes across his own face on the cover of a fashion magazine from a shoot back in ‘09, scowls, and hides it in the back of the rack. He checks his phone, and shoves his hands in his front pockets. His leg bounces up and down as he waits.

Victor wanders back over as Phichit is finishing the x-rays.

Phichit jumps when he turns around, and laughs. “Didn’t see you there!” he smiles, and points down the hallway. “I’m gonna grab the prints, you can head back in if you’d like.” Victor nods and smiles back. His feet itch to move and sprint down the hallway, some emotion he can’t pin down, that begs him to lift his head up and run. Phichit enters only to remove the grey cover over Yuri’s chest and the teeth guards. Yuri spits into the cup beside his chair, frowning.

“Stop it,” Yuri snaps. Victor looks down. He’s pulling at the loose skin of his nails, drawing blood. He offers Yuri a smile he doesn’t really feel. He’s always hated dentists. As much as he liked Dr. Deluka, the noises and tools and the white walls always put him on edge. And he’s not even sitting in the chair.

Phichit knocks before he enters, and drops the pictures on the counter, before stacking them up on the wall.

“So,” Phichit says. He sweeps a hand to gesture to the photos. “I’m going to check with Dr. Katsuki, but your jaw looks fine to me. You’ll probably still have some swelling the next couple days, but keep it iced and stay away from chewing gum or anything like that until it’s better.” He points to one of the center photos, of Yuri’s teeth from a different angle. Victor has no idea what he’s pointing to, or what it means. “The only thing I’m concerned about is this, but I’m gonna do some tests before I say anything else.”

“Joy,” Yuri says, deadpan.

Phichit laughs and snaps on a facemask and a pair of goggles. “Trust me, it won’t be bad at all. I’m gonna do a quick cleaning, and then we’ll get to that.”

Victor’s mind wanders while Phichit asks Yuri where he goes to school, and somehow gets on the subject of hockey. Phichit asks him what his favorite team is. “Sharks,” Yuri says, without hesitation. “But I’m trying to get drafted for the Red Wings after I graduate.”

“Ah, the pride of Detroit,” Phichit hums. “You’ll get along great with Dr. Katsuki, he loves hockey -- sorry, this might hurt a little.” Victor grinds his teeth at the sound of the whirring brush. He closes his eyes and lets his mind drift further. He should call Mila later, and remind her he changed their appointment tomorrow. And he’ll have to talk to Yakov about what to do next season...

“Alright, I’m just going to use this mirror to check the front. Open your mouth a little wider? There you go, perfect.” Victor peeks an eye open.

Phichit leans from side to side, adjusting the mirror as he goes. He peels the mask off his face and moves the goggles over his forehead. “Okay, all set. You can close your mouth now.” He sits on the chair and wheels back to the counter, and pulls out a strip. “I’m going to do a cold test. It won’t hurt, but it will feel a little cold. It’s for testing nerve sensitivity. If you feel it, raise one of your arms. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yuri repeats. He glances over at Victor, who gives him a thumbs up. He puts a hand out to stop his own leg from jiggling. The look Yuri gives him is very disapproving.

Phichit rolls up the strip and rubs it against Yuri’s arm. “You feel that?”

“Yep,” Yuri says. “Cold.”

“Cool.” Yuri groans at the pun. Phichit grins. “It’s like that.” Phichit moves the goggles and mask back into place. He wiggles his fingers dramatically. “Open sesame.”

Yuri snorts, which is rare because he usually doesn’t make a peep when he’s around people he doesn’t know, and opens his mouth. Victor looks to the side and reads the poster on the wall about flossing. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Yuri raising and lowering his hand methodically. Victor stares at the dental anatomy chart pinned to the wall and zones out.

At some point Yuri stops raising his hand, and he glances back over. Phichit presses the strip closer to Yuri’s mouth, but neither one of his hands raise. He presses harder, until Victor can make out his arms quivering from the force of it.

“Don’t feel anything?” Phichit asks him. Yuri shakes his head.

Phichit removes the strip and throws it in the bin. He takes off his mask and goggles, and taps his cheek thoughtfully.

“I’m gonna talk to Dr. Katsuki,” he stands and takes the x-rays off the wall, tucks them under his arm. “I’ll be right back.” He closes the door behind him.

“You doing okay, squirt?” Victor asks Yuri, when they’re alone.

Yuri clucks his tongue. “Are you?”

Victor puts a hand out to stop his bouncing leg. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

“You’re so weird. Afraid of _dentists_. At least if it was something like clowns, or heights, you’d have some credibility.”

Victor gives him a smile, all teeth. “I’m a man of unique tastes.”

Yuri snorts again, and fiddles with the ties on his bib.

“My little baby Yura,” Victor teases. He takes out his phone to snap a picture. Yuri crosses his arms and glares hatefully at the camera. His expression reads: _I'm going to strangle you._

“I’m sending this to Mila,” Victor reassures him.

“I hope you go bald, old man,” Yuri hisses back, spitefully.

A knock on the door, and Yuri clams up. Phichit brushes inside. “Dr. Katsuki is right behind me,” he promises. “Pinky promise, you’ll like him. And you guys can talk about hockey!”

Yuri mumbles in response. Phichit returns to the counter for supplies, and the door opens again.

The man who steps into view is not who Victor expected, and way more attractive than Victor was prepared for. He’s wearing plain blue scrubs and a face mask, and goggles with a light attached on the top. He sees Victor’s staring and a light dusting of pink crosses his cheeks. _Ah_ , Victor thinks, surprise coloring his own cheeks.

Yuri must see the look on his face, because he tries to kick Victor in the shins and hisses, “You’re disgusting.”

Dr. Katsuki looks them over, and focuses on Yuri. His gaze passes only briefly over Victor, which grieves him. “You must be Yuri,” he says, and offers his hand. Yuri shoves his hands under his arms, and glares at Dr. Katsuki. If Dr. Katsuki is taken back by this, he doesn’t show it. He returns his gaze to Victor, and smiles, which Victor finds tragically attractive. “You must be Mr. Nikiforov.”

“Victor is fine,” Victor offers, perhaps a tad too eager.

“Yuuri, the strips are ready,” Phichit reminds from the counter. Yuri looks at him in confusion. Phichit shakes his head. “Sorry, I meant Dr. Katsuki.”

“Your name is Yuri?” Yuri’s expression is difficult to read, especially now, but Victor thinks it might be anger. That doesn’t mean much, since Yuri’s always angry.

“Y _uur_ i. Slightly different. You can call me Dr. Yuuri, if you’re more comfortable,” Yuuri corrects quickly. Yuri scowls at him. Yuuri washes his hands in the sink, picks up a new pair of elastic gloves, and snaps them on. Victor jumps at the sound. Phichit hands him the strip in the same packaging from earlier, and Yuuri sits down in his chair and wheels over to Yuri.

He does the same test as Phichit, and Yuri doesn’t raise his arms. Yuuri asks him a few questions, if his tooth hurts, or if it’s sore, or if he feels anything at all. Yuri shakes his head. Yuuri takes out a mirror and hums thoughtfully, as he checks over Yuri’s teeth.

To Phichit, he says “Mark there’s a large fracture on top left incisor. Greying in the back. ” Victor has no idea what that means.

“Did you have any head injuries recently? Banged your teeth on anything?” Yuuri quizzes. He rubs a gloved thumb over Yuri’s tooth. “Do you remember ever seeing a crack here?”

“He plays hockey,” Victor explains, when Yuri remains stubbornly silent. Yuuri looks up, as if only then remembering Victor was in the room, and the tips of his ears redden. “He had an accident a few days ago, it’s possible he hit it then.”

“Ah, that would explain it,” Yuuri pulls his gloves off with a snap, balls them up, and throws them one-handed into the bin. Victor is impressed. Yuri shoots him a look of pure disgust. “Big hockey fan, huh?”

“Yeah.” Yuri grunts.

“What’s your favorite team?” Yuuri asks, obviously trying to be engaging.

“Sharks.” Yuri says, pointedly.

“Good team. I like the Predators.”

“They suck.” Yuri spits, and looks surprised at his own vehemence. His lips press together tightly.

Yuuri laughs. It’s a nice sound. “You may be right about that. Anyway,” as he wheels back to his computer and pulls up Yuri’s file. “So the cold test confirmed Phichit’s assumption, and I’m afraid there’s some nerve damage in your left central incisor. The tooth’s root appears to be dead, probably because of trauma. It will likely turn grey or black within the next few weeks.”

“Gross,” Yuri mutters.

Yuuri offers him a kind smile. “Yes, gross. We can make an appointment for a root canal in the coming week, if you’re available?” The question is directed at Victor. Victor pulls out his phone calendar and scrolls through his schedule.

“You can work that out up at the desk,” Yuuri coughs and adjusts his mask, and he rubs his lips together. “But other than that, your jaw looks fine, no fractures in the x-ray. I’d stick to soups and other soft foods for the next week or so, though. And make sure you floss.”

“Flossing is for losers,” Yuri frowns.

“Flossing is as, if not more, important than brushing your teeth,” Yuuri pulls his mask all the way off and tosses it in the bin. “You’re all set, make sure you check in with the desk. I’ll see you around, Yuri.”

Phichit gives Yuri a lollipop before they leave. Yuri shoves it in his mouth and scowls the entire time Victor makes the next appointment, and the entire drive home. Yuri tells him he doesn’t want to go to the mall anymore, and goes up to his room.

Victor figures he’s been coddled enough for one day, and lets him be.

 

* * *

 

**To Beka:**

uugh dentist told me i need a root canal

**From Beka:**

2 much candy, i told you

**To Beka:**

no loser

**To Beka:**

jj smashed my hjead into the rink wall and broke my tooth, bc hes a jackass

**From Beka:**

ouch

**To Beka:**

Its okay i didnt feel it they said the root was dead or whatever

**From Beka:**

still sucks

**From Beka:**

sorry abou tthe playoffs btw

**To Beka:**

its ok

**To Beka:**

(draft) i don’t know how im going to

 

* * *

 

Mila, Yuri’s tutor, is waiting at the doorsteps by the time Victor trips his way downstairs. Mila is a junior in college, and a Russian exchange student that was suggested by the school to help Yuri transition to an American education system. This was two years ago, but Yuri refused to go to school unless Mila stuck around to help him. Mila treats him like a little brother, and rubs his hair, and he pretends to despise her.

He rubs his eyes and wipes his hair out of his face. Mila pushes her way inside and spins around at the table.

“Where’s little Yuri?” She asks. “Still asleep?” Mila pointedly looks over Victor, still in his pajamas.

“It’s been a rough few days,” Victor explains, after awkwardly staring off into space. Mila’s look of concern churns his stomach. “I’ll go get him.”

“Tell him to bring down his textbooks!” Mila shouts after him.

“ _Da_ ,” Victor mutters, and shoves Yuri’s door open. Yuri, laying facedown on his bed, with Tabs, his cat, laying on his head.

“Up, Mila is here,” Victor shakes him. “Time to get up.”

“Fuck off,” Yuri groans into his pillow.

“You have work to catch up on, get out of bed.” Victor picks up one of his pillows and smacks him with it. Tabs meows, displeased with this action, and scampers off the bed.

“Ugh, fine.” Yuri rolls out of bed and stumbles downstairs. Victor makes his bed and cleans up the wrappers littering his room, and heads down to make brunch for both of them. He offers to make some for Mila, who declines, but takes the glass of water Victor pours for her.

“I hate English,” Yuri groans, in Russian, facedown in his textbook.

“Perhaps you’d rather go back to Trig?” Mila suggests.

“Over my dead body,” Yuri picks his head up. He turns to Victor, who’s mindlessly flipping channels and pretending not to be watching a rerun of last year’s Eurovision. “Can we go skating tomorrow?”

“No ice time for another week,” Victor asserts. “Doctor and coach’s orders.”

Yuri screams his frustration into his book.

 

* * *

 

Yuri goes for his root canal two weeks later. Victor sits in the waiting room this time, after Phichit expressed there would be quite a lot of blood.

“Cry baby,” Yuri teases him, when Victor flees for the Home and Gardens magazines.

“Any allergies to novocaine, anaesthesia?” Phichit reads off the checklist in his hands.

“He has a heart murmur, no gas,” Victor tells him, firmly. Phichit marks it off.

“Okay then, he’ll be out in about an hour. Dr. Katsuki might decide to perform a bleaching if he thinks Yuri needs it.”

“Bleaching?” Victor asks, his mind flashing to the boxed hair dye kind.

“His tooth color greyed because of the root damage,” Phichit explains. “If he wants his tooth color to match his other teeth, it looks more natural to remove the pigmentation. It’s painless, and it’s removed after a few weeks.”

Victor shrugs. “I’ll leave it to you and Dr. Katsuki’s expertise.”

Victor reads four gardening magazines cover to cover before Yuri comes out surgery, groggy and irritable. “My mouf hurfs,” he explains to Victor, after Victor asks him what he wants for dinner.

“Right,” Victor says. He tries to pay attention to the list of instructions Phichit gives him, mostly not to drink soda until after the bleach implant is taken out, and a reminder to return in a few weeks.

Yuri goes back to skating after he’s cleared with the doctor and Yakov. Yuri makes sure to show off his root canal scar, which Mila tells him is “ _disgusting_ ” and Victor agrees. They return to Detroit Dental three weeks later to have the implant removed.

“See? Like nothing ever happened,” Yuuri gives Victor a shy grin, and fumbles with his mirror when Victor compliments his poodle scrubs. Victor doesn’t know why Yuuri clams up around him. Sometimes he’s expressive and open, and other times he hides behind Phichit and lets Phichit do all the talking.

He thinks it might be his blatant flirting, given Yuri keeps kicking him in the kneecaps. Maybe he’s being too obvious?

“I’ll see you for your cleaning,” Yuuri tells him, his lashes fluttering, looking down at his chart. He hands Victor a pen to sign, and their fingers brush. Victor’s heart palpitations are a sign of either a severe heart disease, or a severe crush. Or both.

He doesn’t see Dr. Katsuki again for another six months.

 

* * *

 

Victor goes in for a cleaning. Phichit and Minami are as he remembers, and Phichit asks several specific and incredibly invasive questions about his love life. Victor tolerates this, but doesn’t have the heart to let Phichit know he’s not really interested in him that way.

Phichit winks at him when Dr. Katsuki comes in to check on him. Victor realizes at this moment, Phichit was not asking those questions because he was interested in _Victor_. He was asking them for _Yuuri_. Victor’s heart flutters at the thought.

Then he thinks: _I’ve got to get a hold of myself._

“Where’s Dr. Deluka?” Victor asks, stupidly.

“Dr. Deluka’s out sick this week,” Yuuri snaps his gloves on. Victor tries ( _fails_ ) not to find this incredibly hot. “His schedule’s been really full this year, so they transferred you to me.”

“That’s fine,” Victor says, and he means it.

Yuuri insists he call him Yuuri, and not Doctor Katsuki. “Only Dr. Deluka and Dr. Cialdini use that title,” he claims. He’s blushing as he says it, so Victor thinks he might be lying.

Then Yuuri compliments his teeth. Victor nearly has a heart attack.

“Most people don’t bother with whitening,” Yuuri, even wearing goggles that give him a very bug-eyed appearance, could kill a man with his looks at any given moment. “It looks very nice on you.”

Victor is sitting at what is possibly the most unattractive angle. There’s drool he can feel on his jaw. He’s wearing terribly unfashionable sunglasses to protect his eyes from the light shining over his face.

Yuuri can most definitely see Victor’s triple chin from where he is.

“Fanks,” Victor’s voice is muffled by the cotton swabs in his mouth. Yuuri points out the three cavities, two of Victor’s bottom molars, one on the top.

“I had a sweet tooth growing up,” Victor explains. “And I thought flossing was a lie.” Yuuri laughs, and his hands tremble as he waves the mirror. “Me too,” he says.

While Yuuri is cleaning his mirror, he turns to Victor. “Sorry, this is kind of random. What do you do? Yuri mentioned your work schedule was all over the place, and I got curious.” He bites his lip, and fiddles with his tools at the counter. “Sorry, that’s rude of me. You don’t have to answer that.”

“I’m a model,” Victor says. He plucks at the loose threads of his shirt, feeling inexplicably nervous.

“Oh?” Yuuri’s voice colors in surprise. “What kind of modeling?”

“I was on the front cover of LAIS a few times,” Victor mimics Yuuri's earlier action by biting his own lip, and wonders if he’s oversharing. “You have a magazine of me on the cover, actually. There’s one in the waiting room.”

Yuuri makes a sound that could be a giggle. He covers it up with a cough. Victor tries (and, again, fails) not to find this adorable.

 

* * *

 

“You have a crush,” Yuri announces, and slams a stack of papers on Victor’s desk. Victor looks at them in disinterest, and back at Yuri’s seething expression.

“What ever could you mean, Yura,” Victor asks, without the inflection of a question.

“You went to see that dentist again,” Yuri accuses. “And you keep coming back here, with that sappy sack of shit smile. And you _hate_ going to the dentist.”

“Am I not allowed to smile?” Victor asks, serious.

Yuri shoves the papers off his desk in a flurry, and screams bloody murder.

The next time he goes, he makes sure to bring Yuri along, if nothing else for entertainment.

“I’ve seen you twice this week,” Yuuri rolls up in his chair. “Are you okay?”

“Just fine,” Victor assures, all smiles. “My teeth are a little sore, I wanted to make sure everything’s alright.”

Yuuri stresses, “Are you sure it’s not something more serious? Do you need a doctor?”

“No, he’s just an idiot,” Yuri informs him, sourly. “But if he keeps this up, I’ll _give_ him a good reason for one.”

Victor gasps, affronted, and puts a hand over his heart, and Yuri later tells him he’s an embarrassment and a fucking overdramatic buffoon. “My little Yura tells incredible lies,” he says. He leans forward in his chair, close enough to see his reflection in Dr. Katsuki’s glasses. “Doctor, I’m worried about my son. What are your options for dental corrections? Does he need braces? Dentures?”

Yuri reaches out and punches Victor in the shoulder. Victor, for his part, only lets his eyebrow twitch. Yuri knows for a fact that his punches hurt, but even his strongest punch is weak in the face of Victor Nikiforov with an Outrageous Crush.

“Uh,” Yuuri stutters. His chair squeaks as he rolls back. His ears, poking out from under the mask straps, are the color of cherries. “Dr. Cialdini handles the orthodontics, not me, sorry. You can ask him for a consultation...if you’re interested.”

Victor leaves, Yuuri (sternly) reminding him he doesn’t need another cleaning until _November_ , and Phichit offers Yuri another lollipop.

As they walk past Yuuri’s office, Victor hears Phichit hiss from behind the door, “He’s so into you, stupid.”

He hears Yuuri reply, quietly, “I don’t know…”

Yuri practically drags him out the door.

 

* * *

 

Yuri sends Otabek a Snapchat of his crooked tooth he knocked out in practice after getting into a fight with the goalie. Otabek responds with a disgusted face, and a lot of thumbs down emojis. Yuri sends him another, zoomed in on the blood, because he’s disgusting.

 _Blocked_ , Otabek replies. _Reported_.

Yuri replies with: _You’ve seen worse._

 _Flagged, unsubscribed, unfollowed_ , Otabek replies, almost as fast as Yuri sent his own reply.

Yuri cleans his face, and hobbles over to the door.

“Yuri Viktorovich, don’t you dare take another step, do you hear me?” Yakov screams, as Yuri prepares to get back onto the ice. “You will call Victor and let him know you are a complete and utter moron! No ice for _you_ until _next week_!”

Yuri swears, and stumbles towards the locker rooms. He calls Victor, who picks up after two rings.

“ _Where are you?_ ” Victor demands, before Yuri’s even pressed the phone to his ear.

“At practice,” Yuri says, but it comes out garbled because his mouth is swollen. “Coach kicked me off the ice. Brad punched a tooth out.”

Victor sighs over the phone. “ _Why must you always get into fights?_ ” He asks. “ _Yura, you’re turning eighteen next year. And the Red Wings won’t pick someone who can’t stay on the ice more than two minutes without starting a tussle_.”

“Okay, mom,” Yuri snarks, and hangs up.

Victor picks him up half an hour later. He’s still wearing makeup and glitter, so he came right from a shoot.

“I thought you weren’t doing shoots anymore?” Yuri asks, feigning disinterest.

“I felt inspired,” Victor replies airily. He tuts when he sees Yuri’s split lip, and grabs his jaw and tilts it to the side to take a better look at his bloodied teeth. “Where’s your tooth?”

Yuri drops the broken tooth in Victor’s palm. Victor shrieks and shoves it back at Yuri.

“ _Disgusting_ ,” Victor shudders, while Yuri laughs.

 

* * *

 

Victor takes him to Detroit Dental the following morning. Yuri’s missing tooth is in a ziploc bag, and with instructions to keep it as far away from Victor as possible.

“It’s just a molar,” Yuri assures him. Victor gags.

Victor was fortunate enough to start modeling at a very early age, so his dental was covered by the modeling agency. When he first adopted Yuri, and Yuri asked questions with no filter, open and curious about everything, he asked why Victor’s teeth were so white and straight.

“I had work done,” Victor told him. “Some of my teeth were crooked, or small, or too big, so they filed down the larger ones and bonded the others to make them look perfect. They told me I would have the smile of a movie star.”

“What did your teeth look like before that?”

“Gross, I’m sure,” Victor said, and ruffled his hair.

Now, as Phichit takes in Yuri’s wide grin, Victor’s grimace, and the tooth in the bag, he sighs. Yuri is not destined for movie star teeth.

“I’ll get Dr. Katsuki,” Phichit takes in a deep breath. “I would ask how this happened, but I feel like I already know the answer.”

“You got into a fight? Again?” Yuuri surveys the scene, incredulous, when Phichit drags him in. “ _Yuri…_ ”

“He was asking for it,” Yuri says, defensively. He looks far too pleased with all of this. He actually talks to Dr. Katsuki now, unlike before, where he communicated solely in grunts and glares.

“From what I was told, it’s not his fault,” Victor says, like that’s any consolation. Yuuri jumps like he didn’t see Victor sitting in the corner, and flushes.

“I guess I’ll get the vac,” Phichit claps Yuuri on the shoulder as he leaves. To Victor, he says, “You’ll probably want to leave for this.”

Victor doesn’t have to be told twice.

Two hours later, tooth re-attached, Yuri and Victor leave Detroit Dental. Victor sits in the car for a few minutes without saying anything, until Yuri prods him.

“Are we gonna stay here overnight?” Yuri leans back in his seat. “I’m tired, I want to go home. Mila also sent me a fuckload of assignments for me to have ready for next week.”

Victor swivels to look at him.

“What do you think of Dr. Katsuki?” He asks, out of the blue. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel, a nervous habit Yuri knows very well.

The look Yuri gives him is nothing short of someone truly suffering.

“Yuri told me you have a crush,” Mila teases, while Yuri’s listening to rock music with his headphones in and concentrating on his math homework. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Yuri’s dentist,” Victor sighs, fully aware he sounds like a lovesick fool. Makkachin wags his tail when Victor reaches over to rub his ears. “At first I thought it would go away, but everytime I see him, it’s like,” Victor throws his hands up in a complicated gesture. “It’s no fair, Mila,” he whines into his couch cushion. “He’s so _hot_ , and I’m so, so, gay. And he’s so nice, and he talks to Yuri about hockey, and he’s so kind, and…”

“It is okay,” Mila tells him, this time in Russian. Despite the fact she is ten years younger than him, she comforts him with sage advice. “If I have learned anything, it is that if you try hard enough, and you are gay enough, love will prevail. It usually helps if you give subtle gestures of your affections, like roses, or chocolate, or rip off your pants and show him your --”

Victor picks his head up from the cushion to throw it at her. She laughs, because she is a cruel, cruel, person.

 

* * *

 

Victor goes for one more entirely unnecessary visit to Detroit Dental. Minami asks him if he’s here for a cleaning or to _talk_ to Dr. Katsuki. Victor’s blush makes itself known at full force, and he’s too stunned to answer. He figures this is his revenge for flustering Minami all those months ago.

As he leaves, Phichit pulls him aside and says “For the love of God, give him your number before you hike up your insurance premium.”

Victor says he’ll think about it, and he does; for about five whole seconds. He decides Dr. Katsuki doesn’t like him that way and allows himself to wallow in unrequited misery.

He’s never going to the dentist again, if he has any say in it.

 

* * *

 

Victor notices, sometime over summer break while he and Yuri are in Russia, that his jaw hurts.

It’s easily ignored...for a while.

They return to America, Yuri rejoins training for the playoffs, and invites his friend Otabek to see a movie with them. Victor is glad Otabek is Yuri’s friend; they met when Yuri felt alone and unlikable, and Otabek helped him mature and grow into the semi-respectful boy Victor knows know.

“Beka has a _cru-ush_ ,” Yuri sing-songs, in a voice very similar to the one Victor uses when he’s teasing Yuri.

“I do _not_ ,” Otabek denies, and Yuri kicks him until he confesses. “Okay, okay. There’s this girl at my study group, she’s got red hair, and she’s really nice and she’s the TA for the Russian class and --”

“Oh my _God_ , you have a crush on Mila,” Yuri interrupts with a solid punch to the arm. Otabek rubs his arm, a betrayed expression flashing over his face. “You’re no longer my friend. I have to burn my clothes and move to Mexico, I’m no longer associated with you.”

“Play nice, Yura,” Victor chides, from behind them. He clenches his jaw as a wave of pain emanates from the back of his mouth.

The pain fades, but returns in waves like the tide. He should go to the dentist. He has a cavity, or something. A toothache. He should go to the dentist.

He does not.

 

* * *

 

Yuri notices around the time they stop eating dinner together.

“When is the last time you ate?” He demands. Victor does not answer, because he does not know. He wipes his forehead, rubs the beaded sweat from his hairline. He thinks he might have a fever. _Say Yes to the Dress_ is on, and although this show is a guilty pleasure of his, he can’t concentrate on anything happening in the episode. He stares blankly at the screen and tries to focus on anything but the excruciating pain in his jaw.

“You’re sick,” Yuri informs him.

Victor does not disagree, and refuses to go to the doctor’s, even after Yuri threatens to break his hand and take him to the emergency room anyway.

Victor may not be afraid to visit the dentist’s anymore because Yuuri is there, but that does not mean he is not afraid of the dentist.

To clarify: he does not want another cavity, or anything, really, and he doesn’t know why he’s in so much pain all the time. But he’s too stubborn to do anything about it.

He knows, if he drives down to Detroit Dental, Yuuri will be more than happy to see him. He wants to see Yuuri again. But he doesn’t want the drill, he can’t stand the white walls, and even Yuuri’s soothing voice can’t pull him away from the --

It doesn’t matter. He’s visited the dentist more than enough in the last six months. More than necessary, even. It’s not an issue.

It _isn’t_ an issue until Yakov comes over to visit and takes note of Victor’s hollow cheeks, and pinches Victor’s side. He barks at Yuri, for not keeping track of Victor’s deteriorating frame. Yuri tells him to eat a dick, and flees to his room.

“He’s a kid,” Victor rushes to defend him, in the absence of Yuri’s own defense. “It’s not his responsibility to take care of me.”

Victor knows it’s not Yuri’s fault at all. He finds it’s very difficult to eat when your jaw hurts 90% of the time. He’s been stuck with protein shakes and a practically liquid diet for the last month. His body hates this betrayal, but anything solid or that requires chewing leads to agony.

Yakov pinches him again, harder.

“ _Ow_ , Yakov,” Victor whines. “I am a sensitive boy, have mercy on me.”

“You look like you haven’t eaten in a year, boy,” Yakov looms over him, despite their height difference. “If this is like when --”

“It’s not that,” Victor is quick to assure him. “It’s not -- it’s gonna be fine. I’m working on it.”

“ _Victor Yakovlevich_ ,” Yakov threatens, and the patronym adds an extra weight to the warning. Yakov is very mad.

Victor turns away, scrubs a hand over his face. “Yakov, I’m sorry, but I’m --”

“Vitya,” Yakov’s tone softens, but Yakov’s face is hard as stone. “I moved to America so you could chase your dream. I followed you to this God-awful midwestern city, and I let you stumble your way because in order to learn, you must make your own mistakes. It is the only way to grow.”

He looks out the window of Victor’s split story house, out towards the sun setting behind the trees. The light casts a grave shadow over his face.

“I did not raise and encourage a boy to grow into a tree, only for him to cut himself down and become a stump.”

 

* * *

 

Victor shows up for a shoot. Lilia takes one look at him, and sends him right back out like a revolving door.

“Victor Nikiforov,” she lectures him, sternly. He tries to focus on her face, but the bright industrial lights make his head spin. He feels like throwing up, but he knows nothing would come up if he did. “You are a model. Not a starved war victim. Go home. Do not come back until you can walk without your pants falling off.”

Victor drives back in a haze. At home, he tries to eat some crackers to quell the gnawing sensation in his stomach, but it hurts too much. His jaw feels like a raw wound, and even touching the skin where it is swelling gives him a migraine.

He tries to eat another cracker. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much. He is so hungry. He shakes and wipes the frustrated tears that well at the corners of his eyes. He laughs at the cruel irony of it: to think, there was a time in his life he would’ve killed for something like this. Bitterly, he thinks, that old Victor would’ve been satisfied, at this weight, at the gaunt, emaciated face staring back at him.

Victor _hates_ him, and he swore he would never be that Victor again. Life is funny, in this way.

He rises from the kitchen barstool, stumbles his way to the living room. The thought of turning on the tv, or watching a show is exhausting. He barely makes it to the couch, where he hits the cushion and decides sleep is a better alternative.

 

* * *

 

**To Beka:**

victors in the hospital

**From Beka:**

holy shit is he okay?

**From Beka:**

are you okay?

**From Beka:**

yuri i need to know ur okay answer me

**From Mila:**

hey beka told me something happened to victor is he alright ?

**From Mila:**

yuri answer your phone

**From Mila:**

yuri I will drive to the hospital and track you down if I must

**To Mila:**

no sorry I fell asleep tell Beka I'm fine & it's complicated

**From Mila:**

I'm glad you're okay, do you want me to call you ?

**To Mila:**

can i call you and beka in a hour or so

**From Mila:**

sure thing, mila says any time is good, we’ll be up - Beka

 

* * *

 

Victor wakes up in the hospital. Yuri is slumped in a hospital chair, snoring, and _Friends_ is on television. It feels like déjà vu, except Victor is the one in the bed this time, and Yuri is his dutiful watcher. Victor’s throat feels like somebody shoved sandpaper down it.

He looks at the IV attached to him, and the drip bag that’s attached to. His jaw still feels like somebody kicked him in the face, so it’s not painkillers. A pity, really.

A nurse doing rounds comes in, and frowns when he sees Victor is awake. Victor puts a finger to his lips and points to Yuri, somehow still asleep despite the volume of the television.

“What happened to me?” Victor asks, in a low, shaky voice.

The nurse gives him a stern look. “You were severely malnourished, dehydrated, and running a low-grade fever. You’re on watch.”

“Watch?”

The nurse shrugs. “Your medical history showed this isn’t the first time you’ve been hospitalized for malnutrition.”

Victor stares at him. “You think I did this on purpose?”

The look the nurse gives him is translated to _yeah, duh_. “Nobody decides to stop eating for a month,” the nurse says.

Victor resists the urge to laugh. As if he had a _choice_. He chose to suffer for a month because he couldn’t open his jaw wide enough to swallow anything larger than a smoothie.

“I’ll get Dr. Jenner, you can talk to her.” The nurse adjusts his sheets and leaves the room, leaving Victor to his thoughts.

After a long discussion with the doctor and informing them, no he did not relapse, and no, this was not something he had a choice in, he is released with a formal warning from the doctor to see a dentist.

“You have an infection,” the doctor orders. “Go to the dentist. Get antibiotics.”

Figures.

Yuri drives to Detroit Dental this time around, since Victor’s hands are shaking too much for him to hold the steering wheel.

“Yakov told me,” Yuri doesn’t look away from the road. He doesn’t have his license yet, Victor meant to bring him to the DMV to take his test a month ago, but that dropped on his priority list with everything else happening. He’ll have to apologize and beg for Yuri’s forgiveness later. Yuri tells him, later, he was delirious.

“Yakov told you what,” Victor croaks. His voice sounds terrible.

Yuri shakes his head. “Nevermind,” he mutters. Victor dozes in the car. The nurse at reception told him he was allowed to take a tylenol every couple hours for his fever, and if he ended back up in the hospital, they were going to chuck him in a rehab center.

Yuri shakes him awake. Victor hazily makes out the DETROIT DENTAL AND ORTHODONTICS sign, but some of the letters are missing. “Get out, loser.”

Victor opens the door and slowly steps out of the car. Everything hurts, his joints, his jaw, his head. The nurse told him that’s because of the fever, but Victor thinks, no, he’s just getting too old for this.

“You are _thirty one_ ,” Yuri snaps.

Ah, Victor must be saying all of this outloud. Fever, then.

Yuri checks him in at the desk. Victor is curled up in his blanket, and an extra weight sinks into the couch next to him. It’s too heavy to be Yuri, so he blearily opens his eyes to see his companion.

“You are a fool, Victor Yakovlevich,” Yakov shakes his head, his face full of disapproval. Victor wonders if Yuri inherited that expression from Yakov.

“Nice to see you too, Yakov,” Victor tries to smile, but that hurts. He settles for closing his eyes and hiding under the blanket. He hears Yakov’s low rumble as he speaks to the technician. Yuri translates most of the conversation, or aids Yakov with his English, since his vocabulary is fairly limited to hockey terms and swearing.

A gentle hand shakes him awake. He opens his eyes again, and stares into the face of Phichit. He’s wearing yellow blossom scrubs, which suit his personality.

“I like your scrubs,” Victor tells him, seriously.

“Thank you,” Phichit replies, guiding him into the chair. Phichit puts on his mask and goggles. He makes Victor open his mouth and pokes around with a sharp-pointed tool, and leaves the room. Victor smacks his dry lips together. He’d kill for some water right about now.

“You have impacted wisdom teeth,” Phichit informs him, appearing at Victor’s side out of nowhere. “They’re infected, we’ll have to remove them. When’s the last time you had an x-ray?”

Victor furrows his brow. He doesn’t remember.

Yakov puts a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t know when Yakov got there. He asks Phichit a question in Russian, which Yuri translates. Phichit asks if he has a bad reaction to anaesthesia.

“No,” Yakov replies, in broken English. “He do not.”

Victor closes his eyes and zones out. He doesn’t know how much time passes, except that the chair is comfortable, and he’s very tired. A soft tap against his nose brings him back.

Yuuri, wearing glasses, and looking even more handsome than Victor remembers him ever being. It’s so, so unfair. He’s holding a mask, and he smiles at Victor.

“I’d say it’s good to see you,” Yuuri teases lightly. “But maybe next time, come visit me instead of ending up in the hospital.”

“My goal in life is to be difficult,” Victor tells him. He hears Yakov snort, and Yuuri chuckles, and a blush grows over his cheeks.

“You look nice,” Victor says, because he is nothing if not a gentleman. The blush on Yuuri’s cheeks darkens, and he fiddles with the mask in his hands. Victor watches the blush fade as Yuuri slides on his Professional Mode expression.

“I’m gonna put this on you, it’s gas,” Yuuri straps it over Victor’s face. He motions to someone behind Victor, and Victor can’t turn his head to see who it is. “Victor,” he holds up his finger in front of Victor’s face. Victor focuses on it. “Can you count down from ten?”

“Ten,” Victor struggles to remember what comes after that. “Nine...eight.” Yuuri’s face fades in a swirl of color.

 

* * *

 

Yuri kicks the couch leg. The couch protests. It hurts.

“Yura, don’t ruin the furniture,” Yakov scolds, mildly. He’s reading a gardening magazine. Yuri knows if there was any evidence that Victor grew up with Yakov, this is the proof right here. Only Victor reads those terrible magazines, and the fact Yakov picked up the exact same one is telling.

Yakov adopted Victor when he was seven years old, according to Victor. Younger than Yuri was when Victor fostered him.

Victor never talks about what happened to his birth parents. Yuri doesn’t blame him. He doesn’t know what happened to his own, and his grandfather raised him for most of his life, until he died. Victor is an annoying ass most of the time, but Yuri is glad Victor is his father.

Most of the time.

“They should be out by now,” Yuri grumbles. Yakov flips to the next page in his magazine. Yuri takes out his phone, which is almost dead, and opens Neko Atsume. Minami, the receptionist at the desk, left when his shift ended ten minutes ago. The place is empty, except for Yakov and Yuri. Yuri wants to go home.

“Do you think something went wrong?” Yuri asks.

Yakov grunts. “There is no use worrying about something you cannot know the answer to.”

Yuri huffs and folds his arms. He crosses, then uncrosses his legs. Fidgets with the strings on his hoodie. Runs his fingers through his hair.

“You remind me of Victor,” Yakov remarks, without looking up from the magazine. “That boy couldn’t sit still for years. At first I thought it was because he was young, and filled with energy. But as he got older, I realized it’s just who he is. His mind can’t stay focused on one thing for too long.”

“He’s better now,” Yuri raises his chin, defensively. “He can’t help it.”

Phichit interrupts them. “He’s all set,” and looks to Yuri to translate the message on. Yuri does, biting back his complaint. He’s not a translator, that’s not his job. “He’ll be disorientated for a couple hours, and make sure he sticks to soft foods for the next week. Yogurt, ice cream, stuff like that. Dr. Katsuki said tylenol should bring the swelling down, and ice his jaw every few hours. I’ll get the paperwork, and he’ll be out in a second.”

Yuri relays this information to Yakov in Russian, who nods, and grunts. “Thank you,” he tells Phichit, in heavily accented English. Phichit grins and salutes him, and dashes off. Yuri hears two heavy sets of footsteps coming up the hall, and reveals Victor leaning over Dr. Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Hey, _Yura_ ,” Victor drawls out. “How are _you_?”

“What the hell,” Yuri says.

Victor leans over and presses a kiss to Dr. Katsuki’s cheek. Dr. Katsuki’s face is bright red, and if possible, he blushes even more. Yuri has a feeling Victor’s been like this since he woke up. Disgusting. “Look, Yura,” Victor babbles in Russian. “Yuuri is so cute, I love him so much.”

“He’ll be back to normal in a couple hours,” Yuuri reassures them. Yakov looks unconvinced, as does Yuri.

“Thank _you_ , Yuuri,” Victor giggles and sways into Dr. Katsuki’s space. Dr. Katsuki stumbles, and braces a hand on the wall to keep him upright.

“Go on a date with me?” Victor begs, a hopeful, bright expression. “Your eyes are so pretty, and your glasses, and wow. You’re so pretty.”

“I’ll leave him to you,” Dr. Katsuki shoots Yuri a desperate look. Yuri rolls his eyes and helps unhook Victor’s clingy arms to cling to Yuri instead.

“It’s so good to see you, Yuuri,” Victor calls out, as Dr. Katsuki heads back to his office. “But you always look so good. Oh, can I have your number? Yuuri, Yuuri, where’d you go? I miss you already.”

Yuri sees Dr. Katsuki’s shoulders shake, like he’s trying not to laugh. Phichit rushes back with a clipboard, which he makes Yakov sign. While Yakov is reading over the paperwork (occasionally pointing out a word to Yuri he doesn’t know), Phichit hands a slip of paper to Yuri.

“Dr. Katsuki’s number for Victor,” Phichit winks, teasingly. “Incase he has any...questions.”

“They’re disgusting, Victor is disgustingly in love with him, and I don’t want anything to do with them,” Yuri tells him, flatly. He takes the paper and slips it into his pocket anyway.

Dr. Katsuki comes back with a lollipop, which he offers to Yuri. Yuri begrudgingly accepts this peace offering. It’s blueberry, so it’s not like he’s going to deny it, that’d be a waste of a good lollipop.

“Where’s _my_ lollipop, _Yuuri_?” Victor whines. He’s very heavy. Yuri is going to steal Victor’s credit card and buy himself a Netflix subscription as payback. It’s not like Victor will realize, he’s so out of it.

“No lollipop for you, Victor,” Dr. Katsuki scolds. He wrings his hands nervously. He does that every time. Victor is so enamored with Dr. Katsuki, he doesn’t realize Dr. Katsuki is as much of a nervous wreck as Victor is sometimes. Idiots, both of them. “Maybe next time.”

“No,” Victor complains. “No fair. It’s okay, I forgive you, Yuuri. You’re too pretty to stay mad at.” He looks at Yuri, as if only noticing he was there at that moment. “Yuri! You’re here! Shhh, I have a secret,” he presses a finger to his lips, but misses, and whaps himself on the nose. “I have a crush on Dr. Katsuki, but you can’t tell him. _Shhhh_ , don’t tell him, it’s a _secret_.”

Phichit, who’s putting Victor’s file away, snorts from behind the desk. Yuuri presses his lips together in a thin smile.

“Goodnight, Mr. Feltsman,” Yuuri is so sincere and kind and Yuri hates him, especially because Victor looks at him with giant heart-eyes and swoons. “Goodnight, Yuri. Good luck with playoffs, I’m rooting for your guys.”

“What about me?” Victor reaches out to hug Yuuri. Dr. Katsuki helps Yuri push him out the front door. Yuri thinks Dr. Katsuki looks amused, but he blushes again as Victor presses another sloppy kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight, Victor.”

 

* * *

 

Victor wakes up with the worst hangover of his life, and the worst part is, he’s not even hungover.

“Holy fuck,” Victor mutters to himself. It’s muffled, so it comes out like “ _Hufh fugg_.” He presses a hand to his eyelids. Every part of him hurts. He chances a look at his room, where he’s laying in a truly inhuman position that hurts his spine. His face hurts. His jaw hurts.

Yuri kicks his door open, and Victor groans. Yuri chucks a bottle of tylenol at him, which hits him in the face.

“Ow,” Victor complains.

“Take that, and eat your yogurt,” Yuri shouts in Russian. “Get your ass downstairs. Yakov’s been watching Glee and I’m going to commit mass homicide.”

Victor fumbles his way down the stairs with a blanket over his shoulders. He nearly trips twice over Makkachin, who is so excited to see him, he tries to kill Victor on the last step. He walks into the living room and takes in the scene before him.

Yakov is indeed, watching Glee, with a bottle of vodka on the coffee table, significantly less full than Victor remembers it being. Yakov is singing along to “ _Stayin’ Alive_ ” in a unintelligible mix of Russian and broken English and dancing around in a circle. Yuri is recording the scene with his phone, wearing a gleefully murderous expression.

Victor turns on his heel and heads for the kitchen instead.

He grabs a yogurt from the fridge and sits next to Yuri in the corner, watching Yakov dance to a Michael Jackson song, and wonders if he’s allowed to drink the rest of the vodka.

“No alcohol until you’re off your pain meds,” Yuri reads his expression. “Do you remember anything from yesterday?”

Victor massages his forehead. “I don’t know,” he says, which comes out incredibly garbled. He grimaces and takes out the spit-soaked swabs of cotton in his cheeks so he can eat his yogurt. Yuri grimaces in disgust.

“You got your wisdom teeth out,” Yuri reminds him. “It was disgusting. And you professed your love to Dr. Katsuki. Which was even more disgusting.”

Victor feels like banging his head on the table, but he’s already in pain, so he settles for gazing mournfully into his yogurt.

Victor has a mandatory check-up in two weeks. The number Yuri gave him (he claims Phichit forced him to take it, which Victor seriously doubts) is burning a hole in his pocket. He takes it out, smooths the folded creases, and glares at his phone sitting in front of him.

“Vitya,” Yakov begins, his first words after he spent an hour crying after finishing an episode where the ( _clearly gay_ ) character comes out to his father ( _honestly_ ). “Please, ask that boy out. I have never seen you so invested in someone else in a long time.”

Victor gestures for the bottle of vodka. Yakov tugs it closer to him, and refuses to give Victor the liquid courage he so desperately needs.

“Ah, _hell_ ,” Victor says, and dials.

The person that picks up is not Yuuri.

“ _Hello_ ,” Phichit greets him. “ _I had to be sure, and I didn’t want to scare Yuuri by breaking patient confidentiality, so I have only one question, and it better be the right answer: do you have a crush on Yuuri? And if you don’t, this conversation never happened. But if you do, I have some important information for you._ ”

Victor chokes.

 

* * *

 

**To Beka:**

I have regrets

**From Beka:**

what kind of regrets?

**From Beka:**

like i accidentally liked my crush’s status from 3 years ago on facebook regret or i murdered someone and i need help burying the body type of regret

**To Beka:**

what

**From Beka:**

nvm congrats on ur draft!!! Go red wings!!! Red wings gonna winn stanley this year i can feel it, i believe in u

**To Mila:**

beka’s weird ever since he started dating u and im blaming you as the root cause

**From Mila:**

HHDHDXHXXHHXXHAHXHXAXAXAXA ROOT CAUSE

**To some bitch:**

i got my root canal almost a year ago those jokes stopped being funny after 2 weeks

**From some bitch:**

you mean they NEVER stopped being funny :^)))))

**To Beka:**

Ur girlfriend is being mean to me

**From Beka:**

what was the dentist doing in panama?

**To Beka:**

NO dont you da re

**From Beka:**

he was looking for the root canal

**To not my friend anymore:**

BLOCKED

 

* * *

 

There’s three sets of impatient knocks on his office door. Which can only mean one person.

“Come in, Phichit,” Yuuri calls, frowning at his computer screen. He’s supposed to send these x-rays to Celestino for evaluation, but there’s some kind of interference so the pictures are distorted. He sighs, because that means he’ll have to call and schedule a new appointment to take another set of x-rays, which is a waste of everyone’s time.

Phichit swings the door open, tries to catch it, and they both watch it slam into the wall with a defeated bang. Yuuri puts his head in his hands. There’s a crack in the drywall where the handle punched right through the wall.

“Forgot, sorry,” Phichit rushes to apologize. “I’ll pay for the damages, don’t worry about it. It’s _important_.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri sighs, exasperated.

“It’s your _regular_ , he’s back for another check-up,” Phichit is grinning, which only means bad things for Yuuri’s future. That is the same grin that told Yuuri to drink half a bottle of Tequila and dance on top of the Student Center in college, naked, and earned him a stern warning from the dean as punishment.

Phichit drags him from his desk. Yuuri passes Minami at the front, who looks far too amused for a Tuesday afternoon. Yuuri has a very bad feeling about this.

“Come on,” Phichit urges. Yuuri rips his hand free from Phichit’s grip. He stumbles into the waiting room, where Victor is holding a sign and roses.

_ARE YOU A DENTIST? BECAUSE YOU’RE SO SWEET I’VE GOT A CAVITY!_

“You better hope you don’t actually have a cavity,” Yuuri warns him, and he feels heat growing on his cheeks, so he must be blushing like an idiot. Victor is grinning like he won the lottery.

“I have on good authority there is a man here for a check-up with a big crush on his dentist,” Victor smirks. Yuuri can’t help it: he blushes every time Victor opens his mouth.

“I also know, on good authority, that the dentist has a big crush on the man here for his check-up,” Yuuri gulps, and Victor stalks closer to him. Minami cheers from the desk. Phichit gives him a thumbs up and a “ _go get him, tiger_ ” and Yuuri shoots him a look of betrayal.

“And after my very, very, important check-up,” Victor purrs. “Would the very nice, shy, very attractive dentist like to go on a date with me?”

“ _Guh_ ,” Yuuri says. “Um. I, uh, I have another appointment at --”

“Dr. Deluka covered it, don’t worry,” Phichit flings himself between them. “That’s a _yes_ from him, by the way.”

“I’m firing you,” Yuuri warns Phichit. Phichit grins, unconcerned.

Victor’s check-in is fine, and his gums are nicely healed.

Then they go on a date at a fro-yo shop, because Victor can’t eat a lot of solids yet. Victor gets a text from Yuri halfway through, that says “ _If you marry the dentist does that mean we get a discount for the next time i lose a tooth?_ ”

Yuuri laughs and blushes when he sees it, and puts his hand over Victor’s.

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to pound your ass into the ice, you giant fucking Canadian shit, and they’re gonna have to wipe you off with the zamboni,” Yuri screams at JJ, while the ref pulls him away from the center. The announcer makes a comment about JJ and Yuri’s rivalry, to which Yuri shrieks “He’s not my rival! He is not worthy to be my rival!” Victor faintly makes out Yakov’s black hat in the box, as he pulls Yuri to the side and lectures him about on-ice sportsmanship.

“Kick his ass, Yurio!” Yuuri screams, but it’s lost in the general noise of the crowd. Victor stares at him like he’s grown two heads. Yuuri is wearing a worn Red Wings hockey jersey, and Victor feels very out of place in his Burberry coat and designer jeans.

“Is there something on my face?” Yuuri asks, suddenly self-conscious.

“I’m going to have two big hockey fans in my life,” Victor sighs. “And I still don’t understand anything about hockey.”

Yuuri pats his shoulder to comfort him, his other hand linked with Victor’s. To keep warm, he says, the tips of both of their ears a warm pink, and not from the cold.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri spins and glides across the ice with the ease of someone who’s spent years on it. Beside him, Yuri flies past, and teasingly pushes him into the boards. Yuuri laughs and shoves him back.

“Guys, help me,” Victor whines, where he’s clinging to the wall. He takes a step forward, loses his footing, and falls on his ass. Again. He looks up at the ceiling of the rink, the cold from the ice below him seeping into his jacket, and sighs in defeat. Ice: 4, Victor: 0.

“Come on, I’ll help you,” Yuuri offers him a gloved hand. Victor stands with some difficulty, and clings to Yuuri with an iron grip. “I can’t believe it,” Victor grumbles. “I should’ve kept you two away from each other, all you do is make fun of me because I can’t skate.”

Yuuri laughs, all teeth, and the corners of his eyes lift. Victor’s heart soars at the sound.

“Hold onto me,” Yuuri offers, gently guiding Victor towards the center of the rink, leading him in a slow spin. “I’ve got you.”

Yuri rips past them and pushes Victor as he passes, and Victor falls again, this time bringing Yuuri down with him. They both laugh, and he hears Yuri’s gleeful exclamation across the rink.

Here he is, on the rink, a place he rarely visited except to watch Yuri’s games: and, with a dentist, even though he spent most of his adult life fearing his yearly cleaning.

Life is funny in this way, Victor thinks. He smiles.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> thx for reading friends pls leave a kudos i need them to survive and if ur super nice leave a comment here  
> (or come yell at me because i spelled detroit wrong i know i kept spelling detriot and it's not detriot i msorry i tried to fix all my spelling errors but detroit is dumb and it should be spelled like detriot and also like i spent way too much time talking about dentists and like 0 time about their relationship im sorry i have failed u but i couldnt get the image of yuuri as a dentist out of my head lskdfsl;df)
> 
> some other things:  
> \- otabek and yurio r hockey bffs and they are totally the kind of friends who text each other at 3am like "u up?" and the other one responds with "no im asleep" skldjflsdkfls  
> \- phichit and yuuri went to college together and yuuri convinced phichit to change from bio-medical engineering to be a dentist instead and they studied for finals together & phichit almost flunked his exam because he kept writing "teefs" because he hadn't slept in 3 days and surviving only on red bull and he and yuuri spent the entire night before the exam laughing over the word "teefs" because they were sleep deprived and eeverything's funny when u havent slept in 3 days  
> \- victor had an eating disorder because growing up as child model he was likely pressured to be a certain size and he had anorexia but he went for therapy in america so he's good now. he also has bpd & adhd sorry folks i dont make the rules  
> \- in this yuri is 17 (hence why he's looking at colleges & drafts), and victor is 31 and yuuri is 27 they're old sorry but at 23 yuuri would've been like just out of med school so i had to make him older lol 
> 
> come share ur dental related nightmares & yell about yoi with me on my [tumblr](http://brotayuri.tumblr.com)
> 
>  **EDIT 7/26/17** HOLY SHi I FORGOT tO MENTION AN AMAZING PERSON MADE [ART FOR THIS FIC](https://brotayuri.tumblr.com/post/162863642856/gaykatsukiyuuri-hi-i-made-art-for) IM LOB
> 
>  **edit january 23 of 2018** some grammar fixes, fixed a few spelling mistakes (wejkewjfkw yeah i know it took me like 8 months to do it...) . i also finally replied to everyone that commented on this fic so thank u for commenting!!!!!!! i don't know how else to express how happy your comments made me and ALWAYS leave a comment on a fic u enjoyed...it makes the author feel so good its so important.


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